Closeted
by WargishBoromirFan
Summary: Post-anime, spoilers. Alice and Randel are in a closet. Martis investigates, Lily's comparing romance novels, Orledo has placed his bet with Webner, and Hunks tries very hard to read the paper in peace. It's all in the name of justice, right? Little A/R
1. Martis: Concerns

A/N: I own nothing but a stray cat who shows up at my place whenever he wants food and a place to crash, and technically, he thinks he owns me. While I've found a few good pieces in the miscellaneous section and the LiveJournal community offers some fun stuff, I can't wait to see the Section III section of FFnet expand, so I wrote a little four-shot, featuring at least shoutouts for just about everyone from Schultz to Webner. (And yes, Fullmetal Alchemist fans will recognize who Lily's shipping, besides Alice/Randel. My fellow airplane-reference-savvy FMA geeks will also recognize where the assistant's name came from, since I couldn't find her name from canon.) Dubbed anime spellings and ranks, just because I haven't found a good translation of the manga yet.

* * *

"You know, Lieutenant Malvin and Corporal Oland have been in there for a while," Lily Stecchin said, turning her chair in worried half-circles between the closed storage room door and the desks of the rest of the unit. "Do you think they're okay?" Captain Hunks grunted noncommittally, never lowering his newspaper.

"I know the big guy is worried about this plan, but you'd think that if he had a really pressing concern, he'd share it with the rest of the unit, too." Martis fiddled with his pen, no longer pretending to concentrate on his paperwork.

Oreldo just leaned back in his chair, stretching before offering the other two noncoms a knowing smirk. "Trust me, you don't want to have the big man sharing this concern. Let 'em be, squirt; they'll both feel better after they've gotten some alone time."

Martis hunched back over his papers, shooting his desk-mate a half-embarrassed glare. "I thought you said they weren't like that," he spoke in a lower tone.

"Weren't like what?" Both men grimaced at Stecchin's glaringly loud and obvious curiosity. It may have been her normal volume when speaking out of concern for her friends, but this was one concern that the sub-lieutenants didn't think ought to be aired around the captain.

"Pipe down, kid." Oreldo waved her closer. Hunks cleared his throat and turned the page. "No, I didn't think that there was anything going on between them," the blond sub-lieutenant explained more quietly, slouching and resting his forearms on the desk. "But I think that it's finally hit the big guy that the LT is really getting married. You add in the reasons why she's marrying Lord Lionel, and that can make a man rethink his priorities."

"Well, I'm not, and you're not, are you?" Martis pointed out, looking away from his old friend when he realized how awkwardly the question had come out. The storage room door offered no answers.

"Course not, four-eyes," Oreldo responded, offering the other two a lazy lopsided smile. "I know we need to get to the center of this mess, and if Lieutenant Blitz is willing to take the risk to get herself closer to it, I won't stand in her way."

Lily's eyes had slowly been filling with sparkles, and the men had been silently preparing themselves for an explosion. "You mean, you think Randel's in love with her?" Martis motioned to their worryingly silent superior officer and the sergeant dropped her voice to an electrified whisper, clasping her hands over her heart. "That's so sweet! It reminds me of this story I read where the sergeant falls for his lieutenant, but she doesn't notice so of course he tries to convince himself that it's just the brotherly love of comrades, but then she's arrested for treason, but it's all a case of mistaken identity and he's the only one who'll listen to her and…"

Martis pushed up his glasses and sighed, sharing a gently exasperated look with Oreldo. At least if Stecchin rattled on about a romance novel it kept her from saying anything about their local odd couple that the old captain didn't need to hear, legally speaking. Slowly and deliberately, Hunks turned another page.

It wasn't as if the rest of them weren't worried about the lieutenant, too. When Dr. Rebecca Northrop, Dr. Kauplan's assistant, had come forward with anesthetic research, detailed notes about her superior's more questionable methods, and observations of shadowy meetings between the old crone and a pair of secretive, silver-masked men, one of those men had resembled Alice Malvin's fiancé very closely. Hunks had been intrigued by the tales of the Silver Wheel, and had told Dr. Northrop quite plainly that she was getting into a conspiracy so deep that he wasn't sure that even Section III could protect her. She had offered to stay on, but hadn't shown up for her last "date" with Oreldo and the Pumpkin Scissors were beginning to suspect the worst.

While Randel Oland was an all-too-frequent fixture in Dr. Kauplan's hospital, the unit's last, best option was to get more detail from Lord Lionel Taylor. The nobleman was smooth and guileful enough that it would be hard to pump him directly for information, but if his love for Alice was a ruse, it was one that ran very deep. Even if Kauplan was on her guard, now, there was little reason for Lord Lionel to be suspicious of his usually forthright and rather naive fiancée.

This would prove a challenge for Alice. The lieutenant did tend to draw her sword on potential wrongdoers first and worry about how a little blade like that was supposed to stop a tank or automatic rifle later. _She could have probably have joined Randel's old unit,_ Martis thought wryly. _All she's missing is an "off" switch for her inner blue lantern._ When investigating this Silver Wheel, she'd have to get a lot smarter about tactics or she'd end up getting killed. While Captain Hunks could be tight-lipped about the Invisible Nine, he wasn't just being mysterious as to this secret society. He didn't know much more than they did, and everything he did know made him encourage Alice to discretely break the engagement for the sakes of herself, her unit, and her siblings, not to involve herself deeper.

Lieutenant Malvin hadn't been kidding when she boasted that she would stand up to the Emperor himself, if she had to, though, and the disappearances associated with those who got too close to Silver Wheel business only raised her commitment to flushing the masked society out. She'd suggested that if she went through with the wedding, there was a high chance that Lionel would invite her to join the group as well, or at least leave evidence of their doings where a sharp-eyed wife would be able find them.

None of them had been particularly keen on the idea, but Hunks, Oreldo, and Martis weren't going to argue much with her during an investigation when they couldn't yet come up with a better plan, and Lily was too busy worrying about the more immediate concern of _when_ Alice would come back to allow the sergeant major to fear that her superior officer wouldn't come back at all.

Randel had been quiet. He usually was, so Martis had figured that it was just the gentle giant's way of supporting their friend while silently running through the thousand things that could go wrong with her plan. He hadn't even stopped to think that the newest member of Section III might have concerns a little closer to his big heart to deal with. But there was the supply room, door closed and utterly quiet. Across the room, the captain flicked to the last page of his newspaper.


	2. Randel: Home

A/N: I don't own them, fortunately for their sakes. You thought I was letting Alice and Randel have a moment of peace in that supply room? Hah!

* * *

"What seems to be the trouble, Corporal Oland?" Alice asked.

For too a long time, the only answer he could offer her was awkward silence. He dropped his eyes to his fingertips, letting his shoulders droop before he tried to regain proper, serious eye contact when he spoke. "I wish that you wouldn't marry Lord Lionel." That was the truth, at least, no matter how unsure he might be about the rest.

"I appreciate your concern, but we need to get to the bottom of this. Marrying Lionel might be our only other chance." Her voice was firm, her eyes set, but there was still warmth in her light smile. "I know what I'm getting into now, at least."

"But how long are you going to have to do this? What about when the mission is over?" Randel wanted to put a supportive, friendly hand to her shoulder, but he was afraid his big mitts were shaking too obviously to attempt the gesture. He didn't know what it would turn into if he tried.

She shook her head. "That doesn't matter. As long as I can bring this secret society to light and its crimes to justice, you don't have to worry about me."

"I - I just don't want you to end up sacrificing the next ten years of your life, stuck with a husband that you helped put in prison, and trying to raise your children by yourself." He folded his hands behind him. Best if they were out of the way. The image of Alice Malvin with children should have been a frightening one - Randel had seen her clumsy attempts to comfort Dieter, the infant that had been temporarily left with the Pumpkin Scissors; she'd probably scared the poor boy worse from the way he'd cried, - yet the thought made him warm inside, gave him a heat that had nothing to do with the hypnotic cold glow of his lantern. It felt more natural to consider the concept than it rightly should, and not just because Alice had been the driving force to reunite the baby with his mother.

Alice placed a gloved hand upon his, a silent reminder to release the tension in his fists. "There is no guarantee that I'll ever have children. If my brother becomes next head of the house, there's no need, so I'm not going to worry about them anytime soon. Besides, I intend to take these creeps down in much less than ten years, especially with the Pumpkin Scissors to help me."

"We'll be there, lieutenant," Randel saluted, offering her a smile to match her million-watt gung-ho grin. Her hand had been amiable and unhesitant on his, even if she was quick to draw it back and step away. "I wish you could marry someone who cares about your happiness, noble politics, undercover operations, or no."

"Like Shultz?" She raised an eyebrow. The heir presumptive to the noble house of Malvin sounded almost as if she were fishing for something.

Well, Lord Shultz was a bit of an airhead, but he did seem to be volunteering more time with Section III's charitable works since the ballroom incident. He had told Alice that he liked seeing her smile, too. "Somebody like him," Randel allowed with a light shrug. "As long as he makes you happy." There wasn't much point in exploring any other options out loud, not when he couldn't even convince himself of their practical efficacy.

"Completing this mission will be enough for now. I don't expect my husband to provide me with a goal, a position in life, or even necessarily a place to call home. I already have all those things," the lieutenant said, dropping her gaze at last. The hand she'd reached out to him with was still pulled close to her chest, the other now rested loosely atop it. "You and the rest of the Pumpkin Scissors already do more than enough to look after me. I ought to be looking more after your morale."

"We'll be fine, ma'am. As long as we've got our LT to lead the way, this is like home for me - for us, too." He'd never visited his superior officers' personal living quarters, but Randel Oland felt as if he'd resided with them more than the away missions could count for. It wasn't the flat full of neatly ordered books with women's addresses tucked haphazardly between the pages and scattered bottles with nary a stain left half-scrubbed around them that he could picture Martis and Oreldo sharing, each man used to his compatriot's idiosyncrasies and odd hours from a friendship that had survived its ups and downs and ins and outs since early childhood, or the brightly painted tiny loft that overflowed with Stecchin's music and the cadenced thump of Mercury's tail, or Hunks's apartment in the officer's barracks, wallpapered with clippings and lined with locked cabinets that contained more sensitive information, or even the pallet under the bridge where he slept warm and secure in the company of a veritable horde of cats. Home was… here, in their headquarters, in the car, in the field. But most of all, right now, home was staring him in the face in the cramped storage closet that smelled heavily of boot polish, brightening visibly at his words. Randel thought he saw a hint of a blush, but it might just be the heat that was beginning to redden his own face. "Oreldo will probably be more than happy to use the wedding as an excuse to drink, anyway, and Martis and I will be along… to keep him out of trouble, ma'am," the scarred corporal trailed off somewhat guiltily. Although he didn't have the extra money to spend on alcohol, this was one occasion when he wouldn't take too much convincing to join the sub-lieutenants at the bar. "I'm sure Stecchin enjoys helping plan the festivities."

"I know my sisters do." The youngest daughter of House Malvin offered a lightly self-depreciating chuckle. "They worry that our little brother doesn't have a proper noble role-model, since both of them married soldiers." Alice shook her head, pulling her arms around her. "Sometimes, I think they really do understand the spirit of the Pumpkin Scissors, even if they don't understand my reasons for being here. Our family rose to power as soldiers fighting for the betterment of the Empire, and they married men who did the same."

"Not to mention that Elise can be a real tiger if she thinks you're in trouble. She shooed me out every time I tried to visit you in the hospital after that ball." It was understandable, he supposed. Alice had gone there to confirm her engagement before her civilian peers, and found herself defending their honor and trying to defuse a riot instead. Probably worse in her aggressively ladylike sisters' eyes, after fighting herself into exhaustion, Alice had fainted wearing a torn dress and a size 64 army-issue jacket into not Lionel's arms, but Randel's - purposely, a perversely hopeful little voice at the back of the corporal's mind added.

Still, it was only natural that she'd borrow his coat - neither Martis's or Oreldo's jackets would be big enough to properly cover up her legs after her skirt had ripped. His was, or at least it would have been if she'd fastened it. The middle of a duel was really no time to get too concerned about propriety; Randel reminded himself, before his thoughts could drift into dangerous waters, or… other things. Alice had wanted the jacket for morale, she'd explained, for something that smelled like the military unit so dear to her heart. Part of Randel had been tempted to reclaim the tattered coat once they got her to the hospital, just to see what about the inside of his lapel had made her smile so. He didn't dare let himself seriously consider comparing the scent to the inside of other lapels; he didn't mind being ranked barely higher than the dog, but Stecchin would probably be discomfited if she found him sneaking into the company laundry, and he would be more upset about upsetting the friendly little sergeant-major than getting busted back to private. Even in Easygoing Section III, where this same storage closet might double as a worship hall, dog kennel, or Oreldo's "meeting" room - another thing Randel tried not to think about - there had to be some standards.

Lionel had been elsewhere when Alice had fallen unconscious - probably contacting other brilliant minds to help deal with the aftereffects of the "destruction of property," as Oreldo had neatly phrased it. Of course the lieutenant would rather collapse with one of her men to catch her than in the middle of the ballroom floor while waiting for her fiancé to return from his secretive disappearance. At the time, Randel had hoped that this meant that the angered commoners who had invaded the ball would be able to get back to their homes without any life-threatening consequences, but now he suspected that if he'd made note of anyone else that had gone missing, they might have another member of the Silver Wheel within their sights.

"Good." Alice straightened her spine, staring upwards to look him in the eye. "As I recall, you had three cracked ribs, a concussion, and a fractured cheekbone. You were in no condition to come and visit me." There was really no point in mentioning the outer wounds. Randel had been covered from broken nose to heavy feet in scars since long before they'd met, and the marks from the mace blended in as if they were no more than the cat scratches that acted as temporary exhibits between the greater constants from best-forgotten battlefields.

"Only a minor concussion," he tried to protest, but the lieutenant's sharp blue gaze cut off his excuses before he could make them. "I was worried," Randel said, his dark eyes softening. "It's my job to get into trouble like that -" She narrowed her eyes, and Randel mentally backpedaled. He didn't want to seem overbearing. There were enough people telling Alice what she should do with her life that it was little wonder that she could get so stubborn about what she actually would do. "I know you joined this company and that duel knowing the risks, too, but we couldn't afford to lose you, lieutenant."

That earned him a an upturned lip. "I can't afford to lose you, either, corporal. I can't count on Oreldo and Martis to back me up anymore."

"They weren't intending to be insubordinate, really," Randel defended them weakly. "It was the best way we knew to get everyone out of there safely." It was the truth. That didn't mean that Oreldo hadn't enjoyed taking over from his off-duty commanding officer, perhaps a little too much, and both Randel and Martis had taken their cues from him.

"Nevertheless, Corporal Oland, if you're concerned about my happiness, you'll keep yourself safe." She poked him lightly in the chest with what would be a chiding finger, except she held the contact too long. "You're - you _all_ are my home, as much as Father and Solice and Elise, and I don't want to lose any of you."

"I'll try to keep this coat in good condition at least, Lieutenant Malvin." Would it be that bad an idea to step forward and take her hand in his? Yes, but it was too late, now.

"You should. It's military property." She readjusted her grip and squeezed his hand. She always seemed so much smaller than he'd expected when they made contact. She was strong, she was powerful, she was the most charismatic thing to ever break through his nightmares and turn his dreams into something he could look forward to again, but she was a good two feet shorter and as slender as girl's doll. "Is there anything else you need, corporal?"

Yes. "No, ma'am. Thank you," he added, turning his eyes to his boots before her blue eyes could burn away his willpower as surely as the blue lantern at his hip.

"Thank you, Oland." She kept dancing around his name. Alice only referred to the sub-lieutenants by their first names when they had really driven her to the edge - he wasn't sure he'd ever heard Martis's given name pass her lips - but this wasn't anger or frustration in her tone. It was as if… As if she knew that overstepping certain boundaries was a bad idea, too, no matter how much either of them might wish to do so.

Alice slid her hand out of his, holding it carefully at her side, and opened the storage room door. The familiar air of the office filtered in, and she sighed as she stepped through, as if she were leaving for another reality. Randel waited a few moments - there was no particular need for him to dog the lieutenant's heels - and then followed her back into the real world.


	3. Alice: Responsiblity

A/N: Still own nothing here, boss. Thanks to my repeat reviewer, Lluvia-the-Wolfgirl!

* * *

"I trust the lieutenant has resolved all your issues to your mutual satisfaction?" Hunks had set down the newspaper, but did not yet pick up his pen and paperwork.

"Er - yes, sir." Surely the captain wasn't implying what Alice thought he was implying. While she had more practice than most, the lieutenant couldn't always decode that carefully bland gaze or the expression conveyed by those teeth set firmly around his pipe. She still didn't think that he would intentionally draw out Oland's luminescent blush.

When Randel went red, it covered at least as much of his face as his scars did. It made them look fresh, as if there was still a chance to heal them, still time to protect this gentle giant who fought not because he wanted to, but because she'd made him. She couldn't and wouldn't stop him if he wanted to desert the unit; he'd chosen to help them take out those ex-troopers and their poisonous artillery holed up in the dam, but it had been her words that had persuaded him into joining up again. She had convinced him that war relief was worth fighting for. As such, it was her duty to try to choose her battles a little more carefully, so he wouldn't have to do so much of what he hated to make her happy.

She was blushing, too.

"Good job, big guy!" Oreldo flashed them the thumbs up. "I figured you had it in you, but I wasn't sure if the lieutenant would."

"I just- wait, what?" the tall, now beet-red corporal stumbled over his reply. She shouldn't leave Oland to field all of this nonsense, but Alice needed a few deep breaths before she could come up with a half-coherent response.

She'd expected the cheeky smirk on Oreldo's face and wasn't surprised to see Martis looking curiously at them or Stecchin's secretive smile. The dark-haired girl kept humming under her breath and sneaking little star-struck glances, smiling wider as she did so. Alice didn't have to like all of this sort of attention on them.

"Orledo, don't tease the corporal. Really, Captain Hunks, I would have thought that you would be a little more mature about this sort of thing."

The blond sub-lieutenant just leered, satisfied amusement glittering in his green eyes. "Hey, the captain knows that Webner pays out bets to him as well as anyone else. As long as _Oland's_ all right, then."

"Sir, we just talked," Oland forestalled him before Orledo could bait his superior officers any further. Not that Alice expected that Hunks would get too upset, but it was up to Alice to set a good example and keep the men in line - as well as herself. At least Oland was enough of a gentleman not to rise to the bait.

Stecchin leaned over the sub-lieutenants' desk, placing a hand on the back of each of their chairs. Had Oreldo's been upright, Alice would have expected her to swing between them like an excited schoolgirl. As it was, Oreldo ended up being the one rocking unsteadily until he put all four chair legs back on the floor. "Don't be embarrassed, you two. You don't need to do anything you aren't ready to do." She winked a little too broadly. "I think it's romantic, and so does Sub-lieutenant Martis, don't you, Mr. Martis?"

"Sure," Martis agreed weakly, keeping his eyes on his paperwork-strewn desk to avoid making eye contact with either Alice or Oland. He wasn't blushing quite as hard as them, but he wasn't looking Oreldo or Stecchin in the eye, either. "So you went and told her, eh, big guy?"

"He told me about his concerns with this mission. That was all we discussed," Alice's tone was final. "Now, until you three are ready to be intelligent adults about this, perhaps we should seek more sensible company. How are your cats doing, Corporal Oland?" She put a hand to his elbow, half-tempted to drag him out without even asking for permission to leave from the captain and not return for a week, but Alice was trying to be the responsible one here.

Besides, she wasn't sure what she'd be doing with Randel Oland for a week, provided she could even move him that far, or at least she didn't want to think about it when her ears were already burning. "They're, uh, they're fine, ma'am," he answered her awkwardly, still glued to the spot. "They've got plenty of food."

"Good to hear you've got at least a few friends who can avoid gossip," Alice sighed, then straightened to face Captain Hunks's desk. "Sir, is there anything outside the office that needs doing? Immediately?"

"Well," Hunks said mildly, lingering longer than Alice would like over the question, "there aren't any tasks that require our urgent attention, but you could save Stecchin a trip to the mail room if you can't sit still and finish your paperwork. See if the latest reports from the work commune have come in."

"Sir," Alice saluted him and turned, never releasing Oland's elbow as she started for the door. Probably a good thing he was dragging his heels; it kept her from darting out of the room.

"Um, ma'am? Maybe it would be better if I stayed here, or went out for you, just so…" He hadn't removed her hand from the crook of his arm, but he was quite possibly the most awkward "escort" she'd ever pulled along behind, and word of her dancing skill (or total lack thereof) had spread fast, even after she had made an intensive effort to improve, if only to please her sisters. Most previous contenders for her most reluctant partner had come from those lessons, abandoned as quickly as she'd started in favor of further fencing practice. Men expected one to nearly run them through during those. Why Oland appeared to anticipate a similar amount of injury from a mail run was beyond Alice. "I don't want to give the wrong idea."

"Nonsense," she cut off any further protest. "We both need to leave until the rumor mill dies down a bit. It'll be good to clear our heads."

Oreldo waved them off from his chair, tilting it back once more. "While you're out, big guy, could you pop in on Webner? Apparently I owe her a beer. Don't know what Hunks owes her, but Martis could've won big if he'd bothered to place a bet."

"Oreldo," his best friend hissed before Alice could respond. "Ixnay on the etbay."

"It would be good to see her latest reports on the repeating rifles." Hunks chose to ignore the sub-lieutenants' antics for the moment. "Any chance we have of tracing their origins is a step towards potentially smoking out our quarry." As if it were the gravest connection to those words he would have to deal with today, the captain picked up his pipe, tamping out the ash before refilling it as his underlings looked sheepishly among themselves.

Embarrassed or not, Alice shouldn't have let her emotions get the better of her, and she knew that despite her efforts to keep her cool, her attempts to remove herself had only exacerbated the issue. She loosened her grip on Oland's elbow, though the guilty look in his dark, guileless eyes made her feel too sorry for him to drop her hand completely.

"Will do, sir," Oland said, exiting the office at a much more deliberate pace. That was more in line with his usual behavior - anything he did, Randel Oland tried to do it right. He'd never been one to rush, or disobey the spirit of the laws and chains of command.

The only time Oland seemed to act without thinking things through was when he worried for someone as helpless as a lost kitten, particularly children (he seemed to have a knack with them, perhaps _because_ of his great size - Alice herself, while of fairly average height, felt tiny as a young girl beside him, - secure, but small) or for a member of his unit: Martis, in the work-bay, when those saboteurs had snuck aboard their captured tank, or in the process of capturing said tank, when Oreldo had barely gotten the three men unchained from one another in time, or when those bullying pencil-pushers from Section I had attempted to follow up on their earlier session of baiting Stecchin.

Fortunately Orledo had handled the last before Oland had had to do more than stand up - despite the playful betting pool Webner had set up (greatly favoring the Pumpkin Scissors, at least according to Oreldo,) the last thing they needed right now was an interdepartmental war. If Corporal Oland was truly worried for Lily, it would not have remained a playful one for long. Oreldo and Martis knew how to fight dirty, but Randel couldn't fight fair against a tank. It was just really no contest, as far as Alice was concerned.

And she'd certainly seen him fight plenty of them… For his lieutenant and her naïve dreams for peace, truth, and justice most of all. He had dedicated himself to helping her with that dream for the Empire, and as long as Randel Oland embraced those ideas just as strongly, working toward them in that slow, steady, and unstoppable way of his, Alice had to believe that the proverbial pumpkin of injustice stood no more chance than the tanks. No more chance, dare she say, than a pumpkin.

She had let her hand linger on his arm longer than she should have. "We'll discuss this later, corporal."

"Yes, ma'am."


	4. Oreldo: Dreams

A/N: Still not mine. Other pairings? What other pairings? Once one has read Webner/Hunks, there is no unreading it, for it is good crack. (I apologize for the unintentional pun and any bad images that may have inspired. Welcome to my world. Really though, there are a couple crack pairings on the Pumpkin Scissors livejournal group, and even they are well-written.) None o' that here, though, unless you read things that way. While I'd have loved to get a bit from Lily, Hunks, and maybe even Merc, this is the last part of the four-shot. And now, I must pass the bunnies over to you until I can finish my fics in other fandoms. (Fly, my pretties! Fly!)

* * *

It had been a really lame excuse, even for him, but Lily seemed to appreciate how much everyone was pitching in with the minor chores today. "There are all sorts of advantages to a new romance," the dark-haired girl had said, smiling rather speculatively in Martis's direction as Oreldo left to pick up coffee.

Whether the other sub-lieutenant would be making his own hasty excuse and rush out, awkwardly attempt to reason it away, or remain completely oblivious was one bet Oreldo wouldn't be taking. Four-eyes had his moments of brilliance, but he was an absolute blind idiot when it came to members of the opposite sex, and all his best friend's training just made him more self-conscious. It did add to his nebbish nerd-boy charm, the blond supposed, but what was the use in getting kissed by a princess if a man couldn't set himself up to repeat the experience, let alone take full advantage of it? Martis had been his best friend since they were a pair of poor townie ankle-biters in the gutter, and would be until the day they died, (old, fat and happy, and even more easygoing than Section III had started out, if Oreldo had any say in the matter,) but he had to admit that the man was hopeless.

Randel, however, Oreldo still held a little hope for. Sure, the big guy stuck those giant feet of his in his mouth whenever he attempted to speak on topics of a more personal nature, but at least Oland had noticed that their lieutenant was in fact in possession of a pair breasts, - rather nice ones, at that, not that Oreldo was prepared to mention such a thing to her face. With some work on his delivery, there was a chance that the big corporal could even show Alice Lee Malvin why he was something of an embarrassed legend whispered in equal parts awe and frustration throughout the hospital orderlies and no one would ever again attempt to hand Oreldo a sample jug. A man had to have a dream, after all.

Alice, however, was nearly as bad as Martis: she could comprehend conceptually what happened in a marriage, but still didn't seem to understand how it applied to her. The LT tended to think of unarmed combat practice when they talked about fun and exciting off-duty activities that a man might want her assistance with. Oreldo wanted no part in that particular train of crazy, no matter how well-formed its caboose might be, but he did feel a little sorry for the men who did go after her. Idiots like Schultz who jumped before taking a good long look at what went on inside that pretty blonde head frankly deserved what they got, but if a guy like Randel took it too slowly…There was becoming friendly with a girl one liked and there was establishing a friendship with a girl with the intention of creating something deeper than the enjoyable but by no means long-term associations Oreldo generally preferred. Unfortunately, Alice wouldn't know the difference between the two if her company members attempted to explain with flowcharts, music, and interpretive dance, and she ended up giving her would-be swains a tangled mess of mixed signals. The man who ended up cutting through all of them would have to either be a genius, (and therefore smart enough not to get involved, surely, Lionel aside,) or patient and stubborn as a stone. It certainly took plenty of Orledo's patience to maintain a much more brotherly friendship with the LT.

But patient he could be, even if perhaps never quite as patient as it would take to let Alice and Randel figure this out entirely on their own. Oreldo dithered on his way over to the coffee supplies, picking out the milk and sugar well before pulling the pot from the heater and casually pushing the cubes around the inside of the otherwise empty mugs until he heard footsteps emerge from the general direction of the mail room and Webner's garage. He went ahead and bent over the coffee mugs to obscure his profile, adding the appropriate amounts of milk. That was innocent enough, surely. He didn't think his quarry would be checking around for him, but they might be on the lookout for little out-of-the-way nooks like the one that sheltered the office coffeepot, too.

"You know, I think this gives us a new deadline, Lieutenant - Alice." The big guy sounded a little out of breath. Slowly, Oreldo began adding coffee to the mugs of sugared milk.

"Hardly." Alice paused just long enough for her corporal to begin an uneasy protest, then cut him off for nearly a minute before she actually spoke again. "I said that I'd take care of this as soon as possible and I intend to be finished with it as soon as possible. You can't speed up 'immediately' by adding another reason, not that we've added another reason."

"We haven't?" It was amazing how quiet and shy a battle-scarred, seven-and-a-half foot bruiser of a man's voice could be. The curious sub-lieutenant scuttled closer, careful to remain out of sight.

"Corporal Randel Oland," Alice spoke the words with much more warmth than she'd ever used for Sub-lieutenant Kilroy Oreldo, but the note of exasperation in the full name ultimatum made the blond man instinctively flinch a little even if it wasn't yet directed at him. "You think I just fell in love with you today?"

Apparently, Oreldo's next beer was technically on Webner, but he decided to be a gentleman. A swaggering, devilishly grinning gentleman who was expected back at the office nearly fifteen minutes ago, but a gentleman nonetheless. At least the coffee was still hot, if Alice and Randel managed to arrive in a reasonable amount of time. And if they didn't... a good gentleman never told.


End file.
